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“Come on, Donny,” Vince ordered, and I followed him without question. My soul sped up. I would follow Vince anywhere.

Klars saw us almost instantly, his gray eyes locking onto Vince’s damaged hands before moving toward us. He demanded, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Vince replied, brushing off the whole incident of me finding him incoherently beating his reflection to pieces.

“This,” the physician said, unexpectedly serious for once, “is not nothing.”

Vince glared at him. “I punched the mirror. It’s not a big deal.”

Klars released a long breath. “I am concerned about your mental health.”

“I’m fine,” Vince snapped, voice harsh. “It was a fucking mirror. It’s not a huge deal. I got pissed and I hit it. End of story.”

I pressed my lips together to remain silent. Vince had been utterly distraught, but it wasn’t my place to contradict him. So many choices had been ripped from him over the last two years, and he needed to make his own, even if I didn’t agree with them.

“I’m going to recommend you speak to someone.”

“No,” Vince replied, looking straight forward. “Can we get on with this?”

For the first time, Klars looked at me, but I didn’t react, though internally, I agreed—Vince needed help.

This wound would fester until it was dealt with, but he was the only one who could choose to move forward.

If Vince didn’t get better, Klars would report it to the Council of Seekers, but I wasn’t sure what they’d do.

They might force Vince to do things he didn’t want, or they might respect his decision.

When I didn’t respond, Physician Klars moved toward the console to prepare what he needed to treat Vince.

The second he disappeared, Vince reached for me, and I moved to his side.

He was so cold, abnormally so. Humans ran cooler than us drakcol, but he was ice against my scales.

I sat beside him, and Vince dropped his head against my arm.

I swallowed, wishing I wasn’t in my uniform so I could feel his skin against me.

Vince rubbed his forehead on me. “Why is it so much easier with you?”

“What?” I asked, because his thoughts were unclear.

“Everything.”

My soul burned, thrashing against my ribs.

Klars returned, interrupting us.

I swallowed a growl; whatever was occurring between us, I was enjoying and wishing for it to continue. The physician was clueless, though. For once, he wasn’t smiling or cheerful. Instead, he watched Vince closely, but Vince had his face turned toward my arm as he pressed close to me.

His thoughts were nothing but a numb cloud that dulled everything. It was like Vince was truly not here, but rather, somewhere far away. Where? I didn’t know, because I was unable to see or sense more without forming a connection, which was not needed, nor did I have his permission to do so.

Klars worked quickly, disinfecting Vince’s split knuckles before sealing the skin.

Once the cuts vanished, he ran a sensor, then a wand over Vince’s swollen hands.

Klars said, “You have fractured several bones in your hands. I can fix them, but it will take time for them to be completely healed. I’m going to put a nanite plaster on your hands to assist in healing them faster. ”

“Fine,” Vince bit out.

“Try not to move them too much,” Klars said.

“That should be easy. They’re only my hands,” Vince muttered.

I cupped the back of his head, burying my fingers in his impossibly smooth black hair, even though I didn’t have his permission to do so. I would’ve thought from his lack of nutrition that his hair would have suffered, but it hadn’t. Vince groaned and pushed his face tighter against my arm.

“I have you,” I whispered, soul throbbing.

“I know, Donny,” he replied, and I burned for him.

Klars slid yellow tubes over Vince’s fingers, like gloves, and stuck a square to the back of his hand. “There. Now just an injection.”

Vince tensed, and I held him tighter. We truly needed to have a conversation regarding permissions, but I sensed his need for me and his utter hate that he even needed this injection.

It only took a moment to administer, then Klars said, “In three days, you should no longer be infectious.”

“Oh, joy, oh, bliss, I’m the luckiest boy in fucking Toyland,” Vince replied, making Klars blink, but I caught the sarcasm in his tone and in his thoughts.

“Now we need to discuss your weight,” Klars said. “You have lost weight since your first exam. You’re not eating enough.”

“I can’t stomach that nutritional supplement.”

“I understand that it doesn’t taste good,” Klars said, his voice growing almost sing-song like he was speaking to a kit, “but if you do not eat it, I will be forced to hook you up to a support machine.”

Vince launched to his feet and snapped, “Just try it. I will rip it out of me.”

Klar’s nostrils flared. “Now, Vince—”

“No,” Vince yelled. “No one is forcing me to do jack shit. Do you hear me? Not one single damn thing!”

Shaking and breath harsh, Vince blinked away tears and stared at Klars, not relenting.

I stepped in and stood right beside Vince. “No one will force you,” I promised. Vince couldn’t lose his choices again. “Perhaps we should leave?”

He bobbed his head.

Together, we stepped out of the medbay. The instant we rounded the corner, Vince glanced at me with a shaky smile. “What should we do?”

I needed to return to my duties, but I couldn’t deny him. “I think we should eat.”

Vince frowned.

“I’m hungry.”

His brow furrowed and concern lit up his thoughts. “Are you?”

“I am.”

“Come on, then.” Vince dashed forward, heading toward the canteen, and I fought a smile at his protective thoughts. I liked him protecting and taking care of me, though I refused to think about why.